


Mistletoe

by demonipsimus



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, F/M, Other, reader's gender isn't specified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonipsimus/pseuds/demonipsimus
Summary: Drinking in The Gates of Hell has its perks.





	Mistletoe

Knocking back the last of your fiery drink, you tried to avert your gaze from the woman standing at the bar. 

The effort was futile.

She was incredibly tall and elegantly poised, leaning against the wooden surface in such a way as to make her curves look even more attractive than usual from where you were sitting. Long, ebony hair draped over her shoulders, coming to an end at her waist. You could make out the sultry tone of her voice as she conversed with the bartender. If it hadn’t been for your boss, Luka, you would never have been sitting here on this frosty winter evening. No, you wouldn’t even have known the existence of such a place, or the existence of its inhabitants. It had taken you a while to become accustomed to it all, and yet… you had never gotten over your guilty crush on the raven-haired witch known as Bayonetta.

At last, you mustered the courage to go to the bar and get another drink. You were certainly very flustered while making your order, naturally this did not go unnoticed. As Rodin busied himself with your drink, you felt the slightest touch at your arm that gave you goosebumps.

‘Fancy meeting you here, kitty… aren’t you usually tagging along with Cheshire?’

You nodded shakily.

‘It’s my night off, and he had… other plans.’ You didn’t really want to admit to her that you had bailed on the idea of going to Luka’s preferred club for holiday drinks, especially considering that it was usually full of semi-nude dancers that weren’t exactly suited to your more refined preferences.

‘I know where he usually is at this time of year… just as hopeless as ever, I see. At least you have a little more taste.’

The corner of Bayonetta’s mouth twitched in a sarcastic smile, and you practically felt the blood rush to your cheeks in the split second you managed to make eye contact. Rodin slid your drink to you over the bar; he noticed your smitten expression at the witch and disappeared off into the back room with a baritone chuckle.

‘You’ve gone red, my dear. Don’t tell me the liquor gets to you that easily.’

‘No, just - I - it’s nothing-’ you began to stutter.

She turned to face you properly, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail over the long, black evening dress she wore. It seemed to hug her in all the right places, and the plunging neckline caught your attention in particular.

‘Oh, like what you see?’

Damn, she had noticed you staring. Now you felt embarrassed; she probably thought you were just as much of a lech as your boss. 

‘N-no- I mean, yes- I mean… you look nice tonight... I mean- you look nice all the time! It’s just-’

She laughed, and you had the distinct sensation that your legs were turning to jelly. One slender arm snaked around your back and you could no longer maintain eye contact. 

‘Oh, what’s this?’

The witch motioned for you to look up and your heart almost skipped a beat. Mistletoe was hanging just between the pair of you, pale berries reflecting in the moody lights of the bar. You could have sworn that wasn’t there before, no, you were sure of it. Barely managing a whisper, you murmured to her.

‘D-do witches celebrate Christmas?’

‘Well, I certainly don’t mind getting in the spirit of things, especially if it’s with someone as simply _adorable_ as you, kitty. That is, unless you don’t partake.’ 

By this point, you could feel her inching closer, her grip on you pulling you in.

‘I do…’ you said, mind short-circuiting.

‘Oh. Good.’

Without further ado, Bayonetta tilted your chin upwards and closed the gap between you with a kiss on the lips. It meant nothing to her, of course, but everything to you. You could taste alcohol mingled with her sweet lip gloss. The scent of floral perfume intoxicated your mind more than any drink, however. This felt like a dream. After a few seconds had passed, she pulled away with a coquettish smile, proud of how flustered she could make you in such a short space of time. It took a moment for you to figure out how to form words again.

‘Th… thank you…’

‘Something tells me you’re not done, are you dear?’

You could only manage a whimper in response.

‘O-oh…’

She pulled you in again, and this time you dared to kiss her back. Your hands tentatively came to rest on her shoulders. The witch let out a sigh mid-kiss that only you could hear, as if she were giving you this rare permission, and your hands toyed with the dark locks that veiled her, curling your fingers in them. Her hair was so soft, and her hands slid further down you back, holding you tightly. Perhaps you had both drank a little too much, but you hadn’t a care in the world as your mouths moved together. 

As she withdrew for the second time, you had almost forgotten where you were and what you had being doing previously.

‘Wow…’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, kitty.’

She let out a laugh at the sight of your enamored expression, and turned to walk away from the bar. Bayonetta looked back at you one last time, and punctuated her final words to you with a cheeky wink.

‘Merry Christmas, my dear.’

And just like that, she was gone.


End file.
